JULY THEME – “Armed for Battle: Winning the War You Can’t See”
SUNDAY’S SERMON SUMMARY
June reminded us that true freedom is not theoretical—it is a living, blood-bought reality through Jesus Christ. “Free indeed” means completely, eternally liberated by the finished work of the cross, not by our performance or pretending. Many Christians still live bound in secret sin, pride, or emotional prisons, though they outwardly appear fine. This kind of captivity is often self-imposed—opinions idolized, Scripture misused, shame hidden, and sin excused. But real freedom demands honesty, humility, and full surrender. The Christian flag stands as a banner not of a nation, but of a kingdom—purchased not with silver or gold, but by the precious blood of Christ. Likewise, the American flag represents a freedom that came through pain and sacrifice. Both spiritual and national freedoms have been paid for with blood and are not to be taken lightly—they must be honored, guarded, and lived out with reverence and truth.
Freedom is more than a patriotic song or political privilege—it is a holy calling to live surrendered, bold, and prayerful. Our nation’s liberty was defended by soldiers on distant battlefields, but the liberty of our souls was secured on Calvary’s cross. The most patriotic act a believer can offer is not waving a flag but kneeling at the cross. We must rise in prayer, repentance, and righteousness, because revival begins in the heart of God’s people—not in Washington, but in worship. Let freedom ring—not just from the lips, but from broken chains and transformed lives. This is our moment not to retreat, excuse, or manage sin—but to confess, forsake, and walk free. God is stirring hearts, breaking pride, and calling us to surrender—not tomorrow, but now. The prison door is open. Only you can decide whether you will walk out into the freedom Jesus died to give you.
GO TO www.belmontbaptistchurch.com/sermons and listen to Sunday’s message.
Beats From Your Pastor’s Heart
NOT JUST FREE—FREE INDEED
“If the Son therefore shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed.” — John 8:36
Freedom is not a concept—it is a Person. And His name is Jesus. When He declares a soul free, it is not partial, probationary, or subject to conditions. It is complete. Final. Eternal. Jesus didn’t come to loosen the chains—He came to destroy them. He didn’t come to negotiate your release—He came to conquer the prison.
In Acts 16, Paul and Silas were shackled in a Roman jail, bruised and bleeding. But instead of despair, they sang. And as their worship reached heaven, the earth shook. Doors opened. Chains fell. That was not just a natural miracle—it was a spiritual truth: Freedom is not where you are, it’s who you’re with. Jesus entered that jail, and everything that bound them had no choice but to let go. That is the power of the Gospel—when Jesus walks into your darkness, the darkness doesn’t get to stay.
But how many of us, though free, still live like inmates? We carry invisible chains—shame we’ve already confessed, guilt we’ve already been cleansed from, opinions that echo louder than truth, and old identities that Jesus has already nailed to the cross. We say we’re forgiven, but we don’t feel free. We perform to earn what Christ already purchased. We sing “Amazing Grace” but live like we’re still on trial. That isn’t faith—it’s a quiet form of unbelief, dressed in religious language.
You don’t have to beg for freedom. You just have to believe you’ve received it. The prison door isn’t just unlocked—it’s off the hinges. But only you can choose to walk out.
Picture a man who spent twenty years on death row. One day, he’s told that the governor has signed his full pardon. The guards open the cell, the sun shines through for the first time in years. But instead of stepping into freedom, he curls up in the corner, weeping, saying, “I don’t deserve this. I’m safer in here.” That man has been made free—but he’s not living free. Sadly, many believers do the same. They prefer the familiarity of bondage over the risk of freedom. But you can’t fulfill your calling from a corner.
Prayer: Lord Jesus, I thank You not only for opening the prison door—but for walking into my cell and lifting me out. Help me to believe what You’ve already declared. I am not who I was. I am not what I feel. I am who You say I am—redeemed, restored, and free indeed. Let every lie that tells me otherwise be silenced by the voice of truth. Today, I take off the garments of shame and put on the robe of righteousness. Thank You for the blood that purchased my freedom. May I never treat it lightly. In Your mighty name, Amen.
Challenge: Take a pen and paper. Ask the Holy Spirit to show you one area where you’re still living like a prisoner—maybe it’s fear, regret, bitterness, hidden sin, or self-hatred. Write it down. Don’t excuse it. Don’t minimize it. Then pray aloud: “Jesus, You died to free me from this. I will no longer bow to what You’ve broken. By Your Word and Your blood—I am free indeed.” Tear the paper into pieces. Burn it if you must. Let it be the funeral of the old you. Then stand up, breathe deep, and walk forward—not as a slave, but as a son/daughter.
MONDAY’S PRAYER REQUESTS
Sadie Almand – Home
Linda Mays – Piedmont Atlanta
Ann Stanley – Home
Andrea Nix– Friend of the Shellnutts
Doug Stephens
Jason Parker – James & Sarah’s Son – stroke
Mary Williams – Rehab
Scotty Nix
Stephanie Seivers – Friend of the Shellnutts
Jill Haines
Angela Bryan’s Sister
Danny Jarrard
Darlene Wiggins
Doris Loyd
Dr. and Mrs. Davis
Eric Magnusson’s Mother
Eric Ward
Friend of Linda Hodge
Gayle Sparks
George & Linda Alexander
James Burnette
James Garner
Jessica Headrick
John McClain’s Mother
June Cronan’s Sister
June Davis
Kailey Bateman
Kathryn Raines
Kim McClain’s Mother
Kim’s Sisters – Ann & Brenda
Lee Cronan
Lillianna Magnusson’s Mom
Linda Breedlove’s Sister – Sarah
Lonzo Christian
Lori Blount’s Mother
Mary Williams
Mary Williamson – Dana Jackson’s Mom
Mrs. Franklin
Nora Allison
Pastor Driskell
Rose Fuller – Pruitt-Monroe Nursing Home, Forsyth GA
Scarlett – Marynell’s Granddaughter
Scott Lanier
Steve Michaels
Theresa Bain’s Granddaughter
Tom Witcher